This Man(23)

Glancing down at the dashboard, I note I’m driving stupidly fast and without the headlights or my seatbelt on. My head is all over the place. The gates come into view and I release the accelerator. ‘Open, please, open.’ I plead as I pull to a standstill. ‘Open!’ I thump the steering wheel in frustration and the horn screams, sending me on a startled jump in my seat. The sound of a car approaching drags my eyes to the rearview mirror. The headlights are getting closer.

‘Oh, fucking hell!’ I curse.

It skids to a stop behind me and the door flies open. Jesse gets out and strides forward at a leisurely rate, but I’m not trying to kid myself that he doesn’t look fuming. Just because he didn’t get his rocks off? I dramatically slump my arms and head onto the steering wheel, feeling completely flattened. My aim to escape, no questions asked or explanations given, has been well and truly dashed – not that I owe him any explanations. The situation, in all its hideousness, speaks for itself.

The driver door is yanked open and he grabs my arm, gently pulling me from the car and taking my keys from the ignition. ‘Ava,’ He looks at me all disapproving. I want to yell at him, but he gets in first. ‘You’re half pissed! I swear to God, if you’d of hurt yourself…’

I wince at his words, mentally scolding myself for being so reckless. I stand in front of him, soaking up his displeasure, feeling humiliated and pathetic. He grasps my jaw in his hand to look down at me. He’s moving in for a kiss, I can see it in his eyes. Oh, please. I really don’t need this. I pull my face from his grip.

‘Are you okay?’ he asks softly, reaching for me again.

I brush him off. ‘Funnily enough, no, I’m not. Why did you do that?’

‘Isn’t it obvious?’

‘You want me,’

‘More than anything,’ he states flatly.

‘What? I’ve never met anyone so full of themselves. Did you plan this? When you rang me yesterday, was this your intention all along?’

‘Yes,’ he admits. There’s absolutely no apology in his tone. ‘I want you.’

I have no idea how to deal with this. He wants me, so he took me. ‘Can you open the gates, please?’ I start walking towards them, but they’re still unmoving by the time I reach them. I swing around in the most threatening manner I can muster. ‘Open the damn gates!’

‘You honestly think I’m going to let you go wandering aimlessly out there when you’re miles from home?’

‘I’ll call a cab. It’s not your concern. Open the gates.’

‘Absolutely not, I’ll take you.’

I look at his car. It’s an Aston Martin – all black, shiny and beautiful – it figures. ‘Just open the fucking gates!’ I scream at him.

‘Watch your fucking mouth!’

Watch my mouth? Watch my bloody mouth? I want to thump him, fall to my knees and cry in frustration, proper howl at the moon wails. I feel such a fool – humiliated and ashamed.

‘I’m not prepared to be a notch on your busy bedpost.’ I spit. I have a little more self-respect than that…kind of.

‘You actually believe that?’ He’s really very puzzled.

Give me strength. This man is the ultimate player, seeing and taking what he wants, when he wants it. Who does he think he is? Our confrontation is interrupted when his mobile starts ringing.

It’s swiftly removed from his pocket. ‘John?’ He turns and starts pacing. ‘Yeah…okay.’ The call is ended quickly. ‘I’ll take you home.’ He holds his hand out.

‘No, please. Just open the gates.’ I’m pleading, and it wasn’t the tone I was aiming for.

‘No, I’m not letting you out there on you own, Ava. End of. You’re coming with me.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Yes, you are.’

I snap my head up when a car pulls off the main road.

‘Fuck!’ Jesse roars, yanking his phone back out of his pocket, at the same time trying to make a grab for me.

The gates start to open and I run to grab my bag from my car.

‘John, don’t open the fucking gates.’ he yells into his phone. ‘Well, tell Sarah not to!’

As soon as the opening is big enough to allow, I squeeze through, just as they start closing again. I see Jesse run to his car, bashing something on the dash board. The gates start opening again. Won’t the man just give it a rest? I get my phone out and dial a cab number as I start walking down the lane. The call connects and I go to speak, but the wind is knocked clean out of me when I’m grabbed around my waist.

‘What!’ I scream as I’m hoisted from my feet, spun around and tossed over his shoulder.